


The halves of our original nature

by idioticonion



Category: DreamSMP
Genre: M/M, Minecraft level violence (people just regenerate), implied past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idioticonion/pseuds/idioticonion
Summary: One dark night, Wilbur goes for a walk. In retrospect, this is probably a bad move.A story set after the Festival/Festival Aftermath, featuring the usual suspects and friendship tested to the core.
Relationships: No but yes in the past
Comments: 62
Kudos: 156





	1. Chekhov's gun

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains real life persons from Dream SMP and is all in good fun. 
> 
> It features an implied past relationship between two of the (adult) characters, and a light smattering of homoerotica (ie much less than you'd get from two fellows discussing, let's say, hot pockets). Also features Minecraft violence (everyone lives), angst and strong language, in keeping with what goes on in the streams. 
> 
> So if this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please skip this fic.

Wilbur couldn’t sleep. He lay awake, eyes wide against the pitch-black, his thoughts spinning around and around his head, not giving him a moment’s peace. He tried to take some deep breaths, tried to lull his exhausted body back into slumber, but to no avail. He had absolutely no idea what time it was. His body clock got well and truly fucked up weeks ago from living in a hole in the ground.

That was how long Wilbur had gone without a good rest. Weeks. At least.

He sat up, his spine popping in protest, and lit a lantern. Blinking at the sudden flare of light, he couldn’t imagine just sitting here, awake and alone, until the others woke up. In fact, even if the others were around, he didn’t want to speak to anyone. Maybe solitude was what he deserved, but not here. Suddenly he needed space. He needed to breathe fresh air.

Minutes later, Wilbur was climbing out of the cavern and up into the world. Dear God! Just to stand outside and let his lungs fill, to stand in the moonlight. He understood in that moment why wolves howled because he felt like that himself. Like screaming at the top of his lungs, sending out all his pain into the night-time. Instead he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to run. Even in the dark, Wilbur knew the terrain. He leapt nimbly over tree branches, hopped across the make-shift standing stones that crossed the brooks and streams and, although he didn’t intentionally head for Manberg, he felt himself drawn there.  
When he reached the border, Wilbur just stood for a moment, staring at the quiet city state. It looked so different in the darkness and it struck him that he’d never really had a chance to get to know Manberg. Not really, not even before he lost it, and almost lost himself. All that fighting was for somewhere that was almost alien to him.

It started to rain. The patter of droplets on his face broke Wilbur out of his reverie. He’d never minded walking in the rain, so he took the circuitous path, around the border, around the back of the hillside where the White House used to be.

He wasn’t consciously headed for the button room either, but he soon found himself standing in front of it. He had no conscious urge to blow anything up, not anymore. That fire had burned out of him. Instead Wilbur just felt numb. He absently mined the doorway and slowly walked inside, standing in the entrance to his little room, the tribute to his madness.

It was… comforting. He felt safe there somehow. Enveloped, like nothing could harm him. He’d done everything he could think of, tried every trick he’d known, and Tommy and Quackity had been there in his extremity to talk him down. His friends had stood up to him, and stopped him, saved him from himself. The worst had happened, and he’d survived it. They’d all survived it somehow, and all of them carried scars because of it.

Slowly, shakily, Wilbur lowered himself into the makeshift wooden chair. When he built that chair, he never thought he’d sit there contemplating the button right in front of him, somewhat calmer, perhaps wiser. His friends had all been through so much. He’d been through so much. And for a second he remembered, so very vividly, the moment Technoblade had shot Tubbo. Had all that horror been worth it? Tommy thought so. Tommy who still shone so bright, so furiously incandescent, that Wilbur felt old and tired just thinking about him.

He sniffled, realising he’d be quietly crying. He hadn’t even noticed. The emotion had just blossomed inside him, filling him up until it has spilled over. One hand came to his cheek, and he was almost surprised to feel the wetness. He didn’t think he could still cry.

He sat there, unselfconsciously, just letting himself feel everything.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. Maybe he should get rid of the button. Maybe they didn’t need it anymore?

And then, from behind him, came that familiar low chuckle.

Wilbur literally curled in on himself, as his stomach swooped at the sound.

“What’s wrong, Lover Boy? Whatacha doin’?”

What the hell was HE doing here? This couldn’t be happening. Wilbur grit his teeth, his hands curling into fists, realising how stupid he’d been. Why had he just come down here with no armour and no weapons. Nothing except a stone pickaxe.. that he’d left outside.

“Go away, Schlatt,” he said with low menace.

“Oh-ho!” Schlatt crowed, and even with his back to him, Wilbur could imagine that grin. “You’re on my fucking property. It’s you that’s gotta leave, buddy.”  
Slowly, carefully, Wilbur turned around. For a moment he just stared at Schlatt who was leaning casually against the stone wall. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” Schlatt said, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, I get what you were going for, with the whole Beautiful Mind schtick.”

“Why-“ Wilbur bit off the word before he could finish the sentence. Showing weakness was the worst thing he could do right now. Schlatt would scent weakness like a shark can detect a drop of blood in an ocean, and he was just as merciless. “How did you find me?” He asked instead, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

The other man shrugged. “Oh come on. You think you can anywhere near this place and I don’t know about it? Immediately? You have your spies, I have mine.”  
Wilbur blinked in shock. What? Was Schlatt implying that he had a spy in Pogtopia? Before Wilbur could stop himself, his mind was racing. Who had betrayed him? Techno, again? Heaven forbid… Tommy? Was Tubbo still mad? They’d all seemed fine. Christ. Jesus. Fuck. Was there a traitor? Was there someone working against him?

Then, that laugh again. That evil fucking laugh.

“Gotcha.” Schlatt said. “There’s no fucking spy. But for a second you thought there was. It’s written all over your face. Christ, you’re so fucking easy, you cocksucker. You beta dick! I saw you walking around with my own eyes. You didn’t even look around to see if you were being followed!” Schlatt stood up straight, fastidiously brushing at the arm of his suit.

Wilbur just shook his head, feeling the whiplash of emotion. He laughed mirthlessly. “You’re still such a dick. Tell me, man. Just tell me. Why did you do all this? Just for once in your life be fucking honest. I built this country. I fought for it. You just took it all away from me for no reason. And you’re still doing it. Isn’t it enough? Isn’t it enough that you’re President and that you won, and that you got rid of me?” He trailed off, panting with effort, hating himself just a little bit for letting Schlatt get to him. Again. For letting Schlatt get under his skin so effortlessly.

“It’s never enough,” Schlatt growled.

“Why?”

“Oh boo-hoo, I’m Wilbur Soot, and I’d cursed with being all noble and shit. Cry about it, shit-for brains.”

“Stop fucking deflecting and just tell me why!” Wilbur screamed.

“You know why.” Schlatt replied, with a snarl.

“Oh, because you hate me, is that it?” Wilbur demanded, unable to hold back now the dam of anger had burst. “You can’t let me have one moment, one modicum of happiness. You have to destroy everything I love. Just like to you always do.” He was on a roll now, there was no stopping him. “You push everyone who loves you away. You pushed Tubbo away, and you know he looked up to you. You even pushed Quackity away. Fucking Quackity! Quackity who would have done anything you asked him to do. You’re just a sad, lonely man Schlatt. Your just- just- A bad guy. You’re the bad guy in this history. How did I ever- ever- think it was me? You know what you did? You fucking gaslit me! You gaslit me and I never fucking saw it. You just sit there, the spider in your web, pulling all your little threads, full of hate.”

Schlatt actually looked surprised at this. “Okay. Wow, has the boy has grown some balls finally?”

“No, maybe I’ve just gotten wise to you, Schlatt. Why don’t you just leave me alone? Why don’t you just…” He trailed off, because Schlatt was giving him that look. That old, familiar, predatory look.

“Sheesh you’re so fucking hot right now.”

“No. No absolutely not. You are not starting that right now, Jesus!” This wasn't happening, Wilbur thought. This couldn't be happening.

“You come over here and I’ll-”

“No!” Wilbur cut him off, but felt his cheeks burn. He knew he’d got a snotty nose and his eyes were all puffy from crying. He knew he looked a wreck.

Absolutely the very farthest away from "hot".

“You know why I did all this Wilbur. C’mon, you must know.” Schlatt took a step towards him, causing Wilbur to stumble back, shaking his head. “You know its not hate.”

“If it’s the other thing then you’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Wilbur said, gulping. Schlatt moved forward again, Wilbur back. His legs bumped into the chair and he moved around it.

“You never used to complain,” Schaltt looked serious now, more serious than he had in years. And Wilbur’s stomach twisted. Don’t fall for it, he thought. Don’t you fall for this. You know Schlatt is a deranged monster. There’s nothing left that’s capable of love.

But Wilbur couldn’t seem to speak.

“In fact, there was a time when you kinda liked it,” Schlatt said, and there was that old smile. It was so easy to get lost in those big brown eyes. The worst thing about it was, Schlatt was right. Even now, even after everything.

“You’re only as strong as your strongest opponent,” Wilbur said, breathily.

“Hehe, you remember,” Schlatt was so close now. Another step forward, another back.

“I remember everything,” Wilbur said.

“Atta-boy!” Schlatt laughed triumphantly as Wilbur forced himself to take another step backwards.

And his back hit the wall.

There was a click.

For a moment, they both just stood there, staring at each other, frozen, until there was a rumble, low at first, but building, building quickly.

And Schlatt’s teeth flashed in the darkness as he said, simply.

“Boom.”


	2. A big creeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The button has been pressed, albeit unwittingly. Now our heroes must deal with the aftermath.

The ground began to shake in Pogtopia just before dawn. Tubbo was the only one of them who was awake when the tremor began, and he found himself unable to move, paralysed with the fear that the walls were collapsing. He’d never been claustrophobic, not even once, but at that moment he suffered from a dark, nameless dread. He was still standing there, frozen solid, knuckles white around the hilt of his pickaxe, when Niki found him.

“What happened?” He managed to ask her, although even his jaw muscles didn’t seem to want to unclench. “Everything was moving. I’ve never- I was so scared.”

Nihachu gently took the axe from Tubbo, putting an arm around him and leading him down the pathway to the deepest part of the cavern. “Are you all right?

Are you hurt? Hey, just sit down, that’s right,” she said, smiling kindly. She put her arm around his thin, trembling shoulders and he leaned into her.

“I don’t know what it was,” Niki said, when Tubbo started to relax. The vibrations had stopped completely now, and they didn’t seem to be any worse for wear.

“Maybe an earthquake? I don’t know.” Niki raised her voice and called out. “Wilbur? Tommy? Quackity? We’re down here.”  
From above, there was a screech of “Tubbo!” and heavy footsteps pounding across the wooden gantries above their heads. This was followed by a “What? Huh?

What’s happening?” and a second set of footsteps.

Tubbo pulled away from Niki and sat up, both arms wrapped around his body, hugging himself for warmth. He was staring down at his shoes, clearly still upset but needing to pull it together in front of his friends. Boys! Niki thought.

“Tubbo!” Came another yell, and then a head with a shock of blond hair appeared from above the gantry.

“He’s down here, Tommy!” Niki called out with a smile.

“What the- what the- what the fuck?” Tommy whooped excitedly and jumped down the stairs to their level. “What the hell was that? Did you feel that? I thought the whole place was gonna collapse. Is everyone okay? Are you okay Tubbo? You okay Niki?” The torrent of words sped out of Tommy in a nervous scatter.

“What happened?” He continued. “Do we know what- is there- is there…” He looked behind him as Quackity came into view.

“Hey, are you all okay? Where’s Wilbur?” Quackity asked.

The all looked around. Wilbur was noticeable in his complete absence.

“Wilbur?” Tommy bellowed, making the others wince.

“Shh, Tommy.” Niki quieted him. “If Wilbur was here, he definitely would have heard you.” Niki reached out to the teenager to beckon him to come and sit next to Tubbo, while she got to her feet. Tommy settled down, reaching out to grab the arm of Tubbo’s jumper. Tubbo gave him a tight, grateful smile.

“Yeah but- but-,” Tommy stuttered, “If Wilbur isn’t here, where else is he? He’s got to be here!”

“Unless he’s sleeping?” Tubbo ventured.

Tommy snorted. “Wilbur doesn’t sleep.”

They all shared a dark look.

“I don’t remember an earthquake ever happening around here,” Quackity said.

“But it’s not impossible,” Niki said softly. None of them wanted to admit to the alternative with Wilbur missing. None of them wanted to admit to their deepest, unspoken fear. They’d had to trust Wilbur. They had trusted him.

“It could be, like, a really, really big creeper!” Tubbo blurted.

“Tubbo,” Tommy gave him a look. “No creeper is that big. Although it would be amazing! Like a huge giant creeper! Can you imagine?”

“Amazing,” Tubbo nodded enthusiastically and Niki couldn’t help but laugh. “Giant creeper!”

It was wonderful, Niki thought, how Tubbo and Tommy could lift a dark mood. Their infectious energy was a balm against the trials and tribulations of their little group. And in that moment, they were all smiling, and it was as if the cave were a little brighter, a little lighter, around their little gang of misfits.

The mood was ruined, however, by Quackity’s next words. “Perhaps it was Technoblade practising some kind of new weapon.”

Niki saw how Tubbo shrunk into himself. How Tommy’s hand flailed and grabbed a handful of Tubbo’s fraying sweater.

Quackity ploughed ahead. “Or- Or it could be-”

“Don’t say it, please?” Niki begged.

“What?” Tubbo asked.

“Don’t you dare,” Tommy shook his head. “Don’t you dare suggest that Big Q. It can’t be. It CAN’T be. WILBUR!”

The shout echoed back and forth across the cavern walls.

“Come on, we’re all thinking it.” Quackity said with some exasperation. “And if Wilbur went back to press the button, if he changed his mind… “

Quackity was cut off once again by Tommy’s heartfelt “No!”

“If he did it, then there’s just been a disaster in Manberg. Bastardo loco, you know that.”

Tubbo’s eyes went wide and unseeing. “Wilbur pressed the button? After everything?”

“Oh no!” Niki whispered. “Not Manberg. Not Wilbur.”

Tommy looked over at Tubbo, who was very clearly trying to hold himself together. “Okay. Right. I guess that makes me the temporary leader.” He stood up and puffed out his chest. “And that means I make the plans. And my plan is that we go to Manberg and see for ourselves-”

“There might be people hurt!” Niki exclaimed. “We should help them.”

“See for ourselves AND help people. We see for ourselves and we help people. Who’s with me?”

“We help people.” They all chorus in agreement.

Tommy shook himself. “You’ll see, it’ll be fine. Wilbur wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t blow up Manberg. He wouldn’t. He said so. What about Plan Ass?”

Quackity didn’t look convinced. “My ass can do a lot of things,” he says bitterly. “But I gotta feeling that it ain’t gonna fix this one.”

\--

“I not dead.”

Yeah, Wilbur thought, death doesn’t hurt this much.

He could barely breathe. He absolutely couldn’t move. But by some stroke of luck, he wasn’t crushed when the room collapsed. The rock was jammed precariously around him, entombing him. He felt... terrible. And thirsty. Really horribly fucking thirsty. And his head was pounding. He knows enough to know that none of that is good. He wondered how long he was out.

“Hello?” He croaked. The sound was muffled by a ton of rock. “Schlatt?” There was no response. There was an oppressive, heavy silence all around him, and not much air. He managed to reach down inside his coat and found an unbroken bottle. A potion of healing. Without really thinking it through, he brought it to his lips. He was so thirsty right now he would have drunk bathwater. Christ he would have drunk his own piss.

The potion did make him feel better, for a few minutes, but the irony was that with a clearer head he realised that it would probably have been better to have been killed outright in the crush. He just would have respawned back in Pogtopia. Now he was just going to die more slowly.  
Pogtopia. Wilbur’s eyes went wide and he started to struggle, to pound his fists against the rock. When everyone realised what had happened, they would assume it was his fault. They would think he’d destroyed Manberg deliberately in his murderous insanity.

But it was futile. No one could hear him. Nobody knew he was there. Schlatt had finally won. And Wilbur was going to be stuck here, maybe for days, while his friends hated him. He was going to die slowly and in agony.

And the worst thing was, the very worst thing was…

He probably deserved it for all the shit he’d put them through. Isn’t this what he’d said he wanted? To end everything and go down while doing it? What had changed, really? Maybe this was better. Maybe Tommy could rebuild. Maybe the people would be happy, with him and Schlatt out of the picture. A clean slate, to start again.

He’d built a nation from nothing, once. They could do it again, and they could do it better. A bigger, brighter and not blown up L'Manberg.

\--

Tommy and Quackity went scouting ahead on horseback while Tubbo and Niki followed behind on foot. Tubbo really wanted to go underground, following the prime path, but Niki wouldn’t let him.

“Tubbo, you don’t know what we will find on the other side. We don’t know. The tunnels could be collapsed. It’s safer to go on the surface.”

“I suppose,” Tubbo grumbled and Niki knew he was thinking that he could mine through any blockages.

“Look, just stay with me, please. I don’t want to walk alone?” She gave him a quick smile and she saw the tiny transformation as he stood a little taller.

“I can be your knight, M’lady!” He said. “I can protect you.”

Niki laughed indulgently. “Yes Tubbo. Yes, you can.”

It was just before dawn when the gang finally met up at Manberg. Quackity and Tommy had plenty of time to secure the horses, but neither of them were inclined to press ahead without Tubbo and Niki. Together, they crept silently towards the border, looking for hostiles – both men, and mob.  
There was a glow on the horizon, but it was in the wrong direction to be the rising sun.

“Where’s the- What’s the? What?” Tommy stuttered as they drew closer. The treeline was on fire.  
Eventually they all just slowed down and… stopped, mouths gaping open as the looked around them.

“Well, that’s new,” Tubbo said. “Is that a crater? I’ve never seen a crater before.”

“Yeah Tubbo,” Tommy replied, uncharacteristically serious. “That had to have been one big fucking creeper.”

\--

If you stood on the hillside, overlooking the scorched earth that used to be Manberg, you might hear the faintest sound of singing, as if from far away. And if you lay on the turf, and pressed your ear to the ground, you may just be able to make out the words.

“I heard there was a special place…”


	3. Mild peer pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the button was finally pushed, Wilbur is blamed and Manberg is devastated. Our heroes could really use some help right about now.

With the sun at his back, Technoblade rode into Manberg, looking for Wilbur. He reigned in his black stallion and gazed around with some confusion. There was a lot of dust in the air. Everything was hazy.

“Oh no.” He observed in a dry monotone. “This looks foreboding.”

Hot and sticky from the ride, he dismounted and adjusted his crown. Leaning against a tree, he spoke softly to his horse for a moment, trusting it to stay where he told it too, then fished around in his pack for some food. “Never too careful,” he said wryly, chewing on some dried beef. When he’d got to Pogtopia earlier, it had been completely deserted, which was kind of irritating. So now here he was again, in Manberg.

“On the one hand,” Techno said, addressing the horse, “I want to show Wilbur this cool new weapon I’ve been working on.” He takes another bite of the stringy meat. “But on the other, Manberg isn’t so hot for me right now. What with all the…” He sighed. “Murder. Yeah. I guess.”

He nodded. The horse nodded back. Clever Boy. “But on the other... third... hand, I guess, I have a cool new weapon, so… go Technoblade.” Techno contemplated the rest of his meal, but didn’t finish it.

“Decisions.” He mused, thinking about his next move and drumming his fingers on the saddle.

A moment later he drew his sword, lightning fast, and whirled around as he heard a rustling in the trees.

“Tubbo?” He said curiously, recognising the boy and immediately relaxing his fighting stance. Tubbo was no threat.

“Techno?” Tubbo said, his voice cracking. “Oh my god, Techno, I’m so glad you’re here!” Tubbo ran up to him and threw his arms around Techno with a spine cracking embrace, heedless of any harm that might come to him. It was kind of endearing, so Techno kept his weapons to himself.

“What happened Tubbo? You throw a party and don’t invite Technoblade?” He asked, mournfully.

“No. No! Not even,” Tubbo exclaimed, stepping back and looking up at him with sorrowful eyes. “You know that button that Wilbur was going on about?”  
Techno nodded.

“Well, it’s a funny old thing…”

\--

Manberg was completely unrecognisable. There were groups of citizens clearing away the wreckage of churned earth and stone. Here and there you could see remnants of what had stood there before: The bright flash of red from a torn banner, or the splintered wooden beams from the festival awnings. The familiar buildings had either been obliterated or reduced to jagged shells. There was no stage anymore, just rubble. The NASA building was half-crushed, like a giant had put down its foot, carelessly, on top of the structure. Where the seating area used to be, below the presidential podium, there was a hole in the ground, slowly and studiously being filled with cobblestone by the Manbergians.  
In a makeshift building on a flattened area of earth, Techno and Tubbo found Tommy, surrounded by Quackity, Eret and Fundy. They were talking heatedly.

“Hey Tommy,” Techno drawled, at the same time as Tubbo excitedly ran up to Tommy and pulled on his sleeve to get his attention.

“Tommy, look who’s back?” Tubbo waved madly in Techno’s direction.

Tommy’s reaction to seeing him was… interesting, Techno thought. He’d been braced for at least some hostility, but all he found in Tommy’s eyes was a weary acceptance.

“Technoblade, glad you're here, big man, and about time,” Tommy said seriously. “We’re in trouble, Techno. We need you.”

Techno placed his hand on his hilt. “What do you need? You got some enemies that I can take care of?” He could use a good skirmish right now.

Tommy snorted. “Techno- Techno, Listen up, listen up.”

Techno stood a little straighter to show he was both listening, and up.

“We’ve got refugees here, and some of them are hurt, and most of them are hungry. We’ve got no food, and it’ll be dark soon. All our supplies were destroyed during the blast. We need food, and we need it fast. So can you help us?”

“You mean…?” Techno’s mouth curled into a smile beneath his mask.

“I mean,” Tommy stepped forward. “I mean, what we need is a flipping massive farm to grow some crops. Like, a huge farm. And, like, as soon as possible.”

“This makes me so happy,” Techno replied in a low, funereal tone.

\--

Twelve hours later, Niki finds Technoblade semi-conscious, half collapsed in a magnificent field of potatoes on the edge of L’Manberg. “Hey Techno,” she said gently, knowing better than to startle him. “Do you want to go to bed? Get some sleep? It’ll make you feel better.”

“One million, three hundred thousand and five, at thirteen point six percent…” Techno mumbled.

“Yes, that’s lovely,” She nodded, leading him out of the field and onto a pathway, towards the makeshift shelter that they’d built for the refugees. After settling him into a spare bed, Niki looked over to see Quackity, sitting up in bed and scribbling something in a notebook.

Quackity grinned and waved at her, mouthing, “Hey!” Niki went over to join him.

“Are you okay, Alex?” She asked.

Quackity shrugged. “No problems here. How are the casualties?”

Niki gave him a rueful smile. “I think people are scared more than anything. Some are talking about giving up and moving out of L’Manberg. Manberg.” She hated it, but she understood the sentiment. “Tommy tries his best, but he’s no-“ She swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.

“He’s no Wilbur,” Quackity said, finishing it for her. “And Schlatt’s made himself scarce. So we do what we can with what we’ve got. I don’t know, is that maybe a good thing?”

Niki couldn't seem to reply, her throat stoppered up with emotion. They just sat together for a while, Quackity writing, Niki staring into space, numb, still not yet able to quite believe the reality of what had happened to them. Finally Quackity put down his pen, as Fundy and Eret arrived from a patrol around the city perimeter.

“Hey, who wants to take a walk?” Quackity asked, stretching out his shoulders.

“Yes, that sounds great,” Niki agreed, and the four of them headed out. Niki didn’t quite know where they were going at first because everything was still so disorienting without any of the familiar landmarks. But then they found themselves on a patch of ground which sloped higher than the rest of the debris. There was even grass growing at the top, and a wooden sign, collapsed into the dirt but still readable.

“The monument to crying about it?” Niki read the sign in surprise. Eret and Fundy look down at their shoes, clearly knowing something she didn’t. “Alex?” She asked.

Quackity’s expression darkened. He was clearly pissed. “Yeah, because out of everything, it’s that- Everything that could have survived…” He turned away, hiding his face. Niki tried to orient herself, but clearly there was an undercurrent here and something was hurting Quackity. It was easy to guess the source of the hurt, and in this case, maybe she could actually do something to help.

“Has anyone got a flint and steel?” She asked, softly, casually.

“Here,” said Eret, tossing one to her.

Niki reached down and pulled the sign out of the grass, holding in in one hand. “Hey Alex,” She said, trusting her gut that this was the right thing to do as she lit the wooden plank on fire. “Thus, always, to Tyrants!” She said triumphantly, throwing the burning sign to the ground.

And Quackity turned to her, eyes shining with tears and gratitude. “Yeah.” He said with some satisfaction. “Fuck him. Seriously, fuck Schlatt.”

The four of them stood around for a few minutes, watching the sign burn to ash, each lost in their own thoughts and memories.

Finally, Niki shook herself and stepped away, Quackity falling in step beside her as they picked their way back across the hillside towards what was left of Manberg, and what was being resurrected. Fundy joined them, leaving Eret alone, staring down at the smouldering embers.

“Hey Eret?” Fundy called out. “C’mon man!”

Eret shakes him head and waves them off. “Give me a minute,” he asked.

Maybe he needs to come to terms with it in his own way, Niki thought, and was happy to leave him be for the moment and the three of them made their way back to Manberg, each feeling a little lighter for their own reasons, Quackity chatting enthusiastically about his plans for the next day.

\--

Little did they know, however, that Eret was not trying to come to terms with anything. Instead, he was straining his ears, listening for something. And as soon as the others were out of sight, Eret heard the sound again, more clearly this time. He took a half step backwards in surprise, and opened his mouth, as if to yell at his companions to come back. Eret knew for certain now that they had missed something. He'd heard a sound, from down below, in the hillside. Everyone else had missed a cry, a human voice, just on the edge of hearing, but quite recognisable, yelling desperately for help.

Then Eret shut his mouth. He narrowed his eyes. He remembered how many times he’d reached out to Pogtopia, trying to help. Remembering how many times he’d been rebuffed and called traitor.

Yeah, maybe Schlatt was bad, he thought, but fuck you too, Wilbur.

Eret nodded grimly, and walked away, saying nothing.


	4. You're scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur is still trapped after the button-room collapsed during the explosion. Meanwhile, in Manberg, our heroes are oblivious. Except Except Eret. I mean, Eret... Boy! What even? Am I right?

“This is not what I wanted,” Wilbur was chatting away happily, spilling all his secrets into the darkness. It wasn’t the first time he had monologued, and it seemed as good a way to pass the time as any other. “You see, Schlatt, you see, what YOU did was distract me. And I fell for it! You, my best beloved, my greatest foe, you turned me away from my sacred path. Because- Because when I saw what you’d achieved, with the festival, I’m ashamed to admit that I’d never felt such hate, or such pain. You couldn’t have hurt me more if you’d gutted me with a rusty blade.”

There was no reply, of course. Although Wilbur could imagine Schlatt’s response so clearly that he could almost hear it. That laughter. The laughter that sounded like screaming. The laughter came back at him out of the darkness. He had to stop for a moment to clear his throat.

“You see, you took what I loved, but you never loved it back. That’s why you were always going to lose in the end. I should have trusted Tommy. I should have seen through you. I should never have lashed out. It was stupid and cruel and I regret it so, so much. If I could take it back, if I could take all of it back, I would. Whatever I need to do to make up for this, to fix it, I’ll bloody do it, you know! I’ll bloody do it.”

He was overcome with a coughing fit that left him even weaker. He tried to move slightly to relieve the throbbing pain in his side. If he could guess, he’d say he had a couple of hours left, maybe three, tops. Not long now.

And the laughter, Schlatt’s damnable laughter, circled around him again, assailing him like some invisible assassin that Wilbur knew would win in the end, and take him down to his last breath.

But until then…? He would just keep trying to filibuster death.

\--

Tommy and Quackity were deep in conversation in what had become known as The Situation Room when Technoblade found them, Tubbo trailing after him. It was not a large room, and not particularly well designed. Tubbo had offered to rebuild it, but no-one was really listening to him.

No one was listening to Technoblade either, so Techno opted to just stand there, in ominous silence, until Tommy and Quackity’s conversation died away out of sheer awkwardness and they start paying him attention.

“I’m conflicted,” Technoblade stated.

Tommy shot Quackity a look that implied they should humour him. “Why’re you conflicted, Techno?” Quackity asked.

“Well, I seem to be helping with the efforts to rebuild Manberg.”

Tommy shrugged. “Yeah? You have. You’ve been really helpful, Techno. Thank you.”

Technoblade just stared at them.

Tommy and Quackity stared back.

“What?” Tommy asked. More staring happened.

There was a bit of a staring competition going on, one that Technoblade was pretty sure he would win.

However, just as Tommy’s impatience was about to get the better of him, Techno decided to elaborate. These idiots clearly didn’t understand what should have been obvious. “Well the destruction of Manberg was kinda what I was going for.”  
Quackity’s eyes bug. “What? No! C’mon, Man!”

Techno continued, just talking right over Quackity, “And I need to talk to Wilbur. Where is he? Where is this famous button I keep hearing about?”

“Nobody knows, Techno,” Tubbo replied, trying to be helpful.

“Um, that’s not strictly true, actually,” Tommy said slowly, not meeting Tubbo’s gaze. “Wilbur showed it to Quackity and I.”

Tubbo’s reaction was one of silent horror.

Tommy continued, “And… well… no, we talked him out of it, I swear, Tubbo!”

“Well obviously you didn’t!” Tubbo retorted, huffily.

“Where is the button?” Techno repeated, persistently. It was a simple question that did not require all this other conversation. Why couldn’t they just answer?

“Well there was a room dug into the hill right under where the White House used to be,” Quackity explained. “Some of us were up there last night. It’s funny cos it was still mostly intact. I was saying to Niki-”

“It’s still intact?” Techno asked pointedly.

“Yeah, it’s a funny story-” Quackity replied, but Techno turned around without a word and immediately sprinted out of the building.

For a moment, no-one spoke. “Do you think-?” Tommy asked.

Quackity nodded with a gulp. “Yeah. Um. If you think about it… we didn’t even look for him.”

Tommy shook his head, clearly unsettled by the realisation they were all facing. “There’s no way that Wilbur could have survived. That’s so fucking obvious. We agreed that it wasn’t worth it, Big Q.”

Quackity shifted uncomfortably but didn’t reply. Tubbo was staring at them both, speechless.

“Guys!” Tubbo finally said, pleadingly. “It’s Wilbur.” And after getting only a mumbled response, Tubbo continued. “Well, I’m going to help Technoblade find him. Screw you guys.”

When Tubbo had left, Tommy turned to Quackity, shifting nervously, and said, “Yeah. Awkward.”

Quackity nodded. “Dear God. Do you think he’s still alive in there?”

Tommy repeated another “Yeah,” shuffling his feet. “You think-?”

Quackity laughed mirthlessly. “Follow Technoblade?”

“Follow Technoblade.”

\--

By the time Tommy arrived at the site of the former White House, there were several large holes in the top of the hillside, and everyone seemed to be pitching in. Part of him, the horrible angry part of Tommy that had been hurt and betrayed so many times now, just wanted to leave Wilbur down there to rot.

But the other part, the part he knew he should listen to, was shouting at the top of its lungs. And what it was saying was, “It’s still Wilbur. You know that Wilbur was not himself. You know that this isn’t really his fault.”

And so Tommy rolled up his sleeves and helped. The dig took a long time. Over two careful, painstaking hours they searched. They had to be careful not to cause any cave-ins.

Fundy, who was taking the lead at one of the dig sites suddenly called out. “I think we’ve found something!” Everyone tried to crowd around, but Techno held them back, at sword point if necessary.

After long, painful moments, a limp body was hauled into view. Techno rushed forward to take charge, telling everyone to lie it flat, to give them some space, but Tommy couldn’t see anything. He was supposed to be the leader now, but he couldn’t even see anything. “Wilbur?” He called out. “Is it Wilbur?” Angrily, he just pushed everyone out of the way until he got to Techno.

“I need to see him Technoblade,” Tommy said. “I’m seeing him right now. Right fucking now. Get out of my fucking way!”

Techno backed down in the face of Tommy’s wrath and let him through.

And there, finally, was Wilbur. Lying on the grass, bruised and dirty, but very definitely alive. He was squinting in the sun, trying to shield his eyes with one shaking arm.

“Wilbur!” The name burst out of Tommy with a sob. It was worse, somehow, seeing him, and knowing what Wilbur had done. God, Tommy wanted to murder him with his bare hands but at the same time he wanted to hug him.

Wilbur clearly heard Tommy say his name because he turned his head, painfully, looking ten years older his face streaked with dirt.

However, what he said was the last thing that Tommy expected.

Wilbur said, in a rasp that sounded like he’d been gargling with razor wire, “Schlatt. You need to find him. He’s buried. Tommy, you need to find Schlatt.” And then he passed out.

\--

Wilbur woke in an obsidian prison. There was nothing in the tiny room except a bed and small wooden table. There was food on the table, but it didn’t register to him as important in the scheme of things. There was a single block opening in the walls that surrounded him, at head height, covered in glass. It let in tiny shaft of light that did nothing except cast stark, disconcerting shadows across the bleak room. This was a room that said, “You’re in trouble now, Sonny-Jim”.  
Sitting up with a groan, Wilbur held his aching head in his hands. And maybe he was a ghost of his former self, and suffering from a combination of dehydration, shock and possibly a brain tumour, but he wasn’t stupid. He had to assume someone was watching him.

“Who’s out there?” He called out.

“Buuuh. It’s me?” Came a distinctive reply, muffled by the thick walls of his cell.

“What’re you doing here, Techno?” Wilbur asked in surprise. Actually things could have been a lot worse. “Is he my jailer or my executioner?” Wilbur mused to himself.

“I’m your protection detail.” Technoblade replied, sounded put-upon.

Wilbur blinked. “Okay. That’s… great. Can you tell me what’s happening?” He asked, as he got painfully to his feet and hobbled over to the window. He could just see a portion of the back of Techno’s head through and he realised that Techno hadn’t actually said if he was protecting Wilbur from something, or if he was protecting everyone else from Wilbur.

Technoblade huffed, but didn’t reply. It was hard to know if he was just thinking about the question or if he was ignoring Wilbur.

“Hey,” Wilbur whispered, changing tack. “Any chance you can bust me out of this place?”

“I’d say there’s a sixty-seven percent chance,” Techno replied, then after a brief pause he continued, “and rising.”

Just as Wilbur was trying to figure out an escape plan, he heard Tommy’s voice, muffled and angry and getting louder and more angry. Wilbur stepped back from the window and tried to stand up straight, squaring his shoulders. He accepted what he’d done, and he’d deal with the consequences.

“Hi Tommy,” He said softly. He could hear footsteps, but nobody was saying anything.

There was some murmuring and then someone cleared their throat.

“Wilbur Soot, I’ve come here today… um… to read the, er, charges against you,” Tommy said, clearly reading nervously from something he’d written down.

Wilbur felt strangely fond of the boy. “Um- firstly, er, er, Tubbo…?”

There was the sound of paper, hastily being flicked through.

“We’re going to put you on trial!” Tubbo blurted.

“Yeah!” Tommy agreed enthusiastically. “For murder and blowing up shit.”

“And it’s going to be a fair trial!” Tubbo said.

“Yeah!” Tommy said, “You go, Big Law!”

“So, if you confess now, it’ll go easier on you!” Tubbo’s voice definitely went up a pitch and Wilbur had to hold back a smile. They were trying so hard.

“You pressed the fucking button, man!” Tommy growled. “You said you wouldn’t and you did. You fucking- I don’t even know what to say. Just that it’s a good job that Schlatt’s not woken up yet because you’d both be for it.”

“Schlatt?” Wilbur couldn’t help but blurt. “You found him? Where is he?”

“Well, he’s in some kind of magical coma, we don’t really know why.” Tubbo said at the same time that Tommy tried to shout over him.

“Tubbo!” Tommy yelled. “What are you doing? He’s our prisoner. We don’t tell him shit!”

“Oh, sorry,” Tubbo said, but Wilbur’s mind was racing. Schlatt was still alive, but useless as a witness to what happened. And even if he was awake, Schlatt would lie and say Wilbur pushed the button just because it was the most hateful thing to do. The fact it, they all already thought he’d done it.

“Look,” Wilbur said, with a sigh. “You’ve already decided I’m guilty. What’s the point in a trial? You’ve already appointed yourself my judge, jury and executioners. If I really had done what you say I’ve done, how would you even trust anything else I tell you. It wouldn’t be logical.”

Tommy’s face appeared behind the glass. He was glaring, but even just seeing him again was like a balm to Wilbur’s soul. Wilbur walked up to the glass, close enough for his nose to almost touch it, and said in a whisper. “This is not what you think. You’re assuming… But it really isn’t. Think about it, Tommy. Really think about it. You found Schlatt, right?”

Tommy snorted, “Are you saying Schlatt pushed the button? Brought down his own country? Why would he do that?”

And Wilbur broke eye contact with a sad, half smile. “Why does he do anything? Why do you think he ran for President?”

Tommy shook his head. “I don’t understand.” He sounded so bitter.

“Just try, Tommy. That’s all I ask. Just think it through. And try not to think too badly of me?” He turned away, heading back to bed. “In the end, I chose our L’Manberg.”


	5. Such a showman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur is in prison and the Manbergians don't know who they can trust. 
> 
> This is the penultimate chapter, boys.

Back in the Situation Room, things were not going great.

“What do we do, though? I don’t get it? What did Wilbur even mean?” Tommy kicked at his desk as his frustration. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand!” He ranted. “What we need are big brains right now. Where are the big brains?”

“Well don’t look at me!” Quackity replied with a snort. “And you’re talking like this is some kinda conspiracy theory but that’s a broken man down there. Did you hear the way Wilbur talks right now? It’s fucking creepy, man. He lost it some time ago, bro. It’s not that hard to figure. Wilbur fucked up everything and now he’s trying to make you think there’s more to it.”

“But what if there is more to it? Schlatt was buried with Wilbur. Why was he even there? Why was Wilbur there? Were they in the room together? What’s going on? What’s going on, Big Q?” Tommy wailed.

“He didn’t even really explain what he was doing, Tommy!” Quackity was getting angry too. “He gave you zero explanation. He’s just being mysterious because it’s fucking Wilbur and he’s in it for the drama.”

“Fuck. Fuck! You’re right,” Tommy conceded. “But it’s Wilbur! He’s our leader. He’s the rightful president and you know it. I’ve got to believe in him. Or else… what’s the point of anything?”

Tubbo was trying his best to ignore the argument. He was more interested in trying to work with Fundy on the construction of the new city centre. “You know what we should do,” he said, pointing to a rough sketch of the area and drawing in a few quick walls and paved areas. Fundy nodded encouragingly. Niki joined them, eager to see the plans for the rebuild, but also darting nervous looks over at Tommy and Quackity. It felt like everything was falling apart before they’d even had a chance to fix anything.

“Hey, did you hear the rumours?” Niki said to Tommy and Fundy, keeping her voice low.

Tubbo clearly wasn’t really listening but Fundy leaned forward eagerly. “What rumours?”

“They say that Dream is planning something big.”

Fundy blinked. “What, like a competition or something? They that could be great.”

Niki shook her head. “No. No, Fundy. You don’t understand. He’s planning something… bad.”

Tubbo looked up at her, suddenly paying attention. “What kind of something bad?”

“I don’t know,” Niki said nervously. “I don’t know, but I think we should prepare for the worst.”

“Worse than-? Worse than this?” Tubbo asked, incredulous.

Niki nodded her head. “It’s Dream, Tubbo. He’s got power like nothing else. We don’t know what to expect.”

“Shit.”

\--

When Wilbur was led out of his cell, he was immediately surrounded flanked either side by guards dressed in diamond and netherite armour. They clearly were not taking any chances, although he wasn’t quite sure what they expected him to do when he was dressed in rags, had no weapons, and had the strength of a newborn kitten.

Schlatt was lifted out of his cell on a stretcher, still unconscious, and the very sight of him caused Wilbur to rage internally. Because, of course, Schlatt looked fucking amazing. He looked pristine, untouched, and that really pissed Wilbur off. It made him feel like a dirty scarecrow, spindly and awkward when compared to his old enemy. Schlatt was lying there, dressed in that immaculate suit, looking like he was just taking a nap, while everyone else was going feral. Oh course. Jesus!

When they took Wilbur into the newly-built courtroom, he was in no mood to be civil to anybody really. This would be a joke of a trial. It was just sad. Tubbo sat in what Wilbur presumed to be the judge’s chair. That said everything you needed to know.

Niki was sitting on the end of a long bench where most of the other Manbergians were congregated., she gave him a small, encouraging smile as he walked past her and, for some reason, it was that simple gesture that got to him. He hated this, he realised. He had to do something positive for fucking once. He didn’t deserve his friends, but apparently he still had them anyway.

He was led in to stand beside Tommy. “I’m your defence man.” Tommy said. “Um, I’m gonna make sure you get off with a warning!”

Wilbur shook his head, incredulous.

“Hang him!” Tubbo cried out, happily banging on the table with a make-shift gavel. Clearly the faux-power had gone to his head.

“Tubbo!” Tommy let out an incredulous laugh. “You can’t say that. You have to hear the evidence.”

On the other side of the aisle sat Quackity, stone-faced. His prosecuting attorney, Wilbur presumed.

“Witness for the defence!” Tubbo yelled randomly.

“Okay Wilbur,” Tommy rose to his feet. “This is it. This is where you tell us all what really happened.”

Wilbur didn’t stand up immediately. You don’t shoot your load at the beginning of the speech, he though. Instead, he said, quietly, so that they had to fall silent themselves to hear him, “Did you know, this whole thing started because of jealousy?”

Tommy looked at him with some confusion, but for once he didn’t interrupt.

“It was jealousy that drove Schlatt to take power in L’Manberg." Wilbur continued, "And It was jealousy that drove me to want to destroy it. Nobody likes to see something they love flourishing without them. You know,” he said chuckling at the irony, “At the festival, I had a moment of perfect clarity. I saw you Tubbo, and Niki, and Eret, and Fundy… my son, Fundy, and you were happy. You were brilliantly, artlessly happy. And in that moment, I hated you all, and I recognised that hatred for what it was.”

He got to his feet, a little wobbly at first, but then standing strong. “It was jealousy,” he continued. “And yes, I wanted to blow up Manberg, and sow the earth with salt, and for that moment I felt everything he must have felt, every second of every day, when he was President.”

Wilbur left the bench, walking shakily over to Schlatt’s prone body. Nobody stopped him, “And I acted on that hatred, and I laid the TNT and made the controls, I’ll freely admit to it.” He let out a heavy sigh, covering his face in his hand.

There was a restless murmuring from the peanut gallery.

“But I didn’t actually do the deed. I didn’t trigger the explosion deliberately. I don’t think I ever would have, not really. I just thought I was being so clever, so revolutionary, and I got caught up in it all, like it was a game between him and me.”

He looked down at Schlatt’s peaceful face. “But in the end, I didn’t do it. No. It was him. Schlatt. It was his doing. And the funny thing is, the real fucking kicker, is that he’s the only person here who would be able to back me up. He’s the only witness.”

He turned back towards the gallery of people, to Tommy, and Tubbo, who were all staring at him, enraptured. “He’s the only witness,” Wilbur grimaced. “And he might as well be dead. I think I wish he was dead”.

Behind Wilbur, there was movement.

Behind Wilbur, there was a voice. “Wow, that’s hurtful, Loverboy.”

And Schlatt opened his eyes.

There was a collective gasp. Jaws dropped. Niki covered her mouth with a horrified, “Oh no.”

Wilbur whirled around to face him. “Damn you!” He said with a growl. “You know it’s my word against yours?” He was cornered, he knew that. And yet again, he realised how stupid he’d been. If he was Schlatt, he’d have picked this exact moment to conveniently come back to life.

He and Schlatt: Two halves of the same coin.

“Oh yes, I’m aware,” Schlatt said, trying to sit up with an exaggerated wheeze. Dear god, it was so easy to hate him. Wilbur stared him down, while Quackity tried to help his former president to the bench beside him.

“So, get on with it. Spit it out. Tell all your lies, you bastard. Tell them how you’re perfectly innocent in all this, and how you didn’t practically push me up against the button. How it wasn’t you, all along. Everything bad thing.” Wilbur was breathing heavily, his spiteful words hanging in the air between them.

But Schlatt just smiled. “Oh no, I did it,” he said. “I admit it. I made you press the button. This whole place can go to hell, what do I care? You think I care about any of you pussies?” He looked around the room. Then he grinned, wickedly. “Not for nothing, but it doesn’t matter anyway.”

And with a dramatic flourish, and perfect timing, the doors to the courtroom swung open and a figure stepped through them, swinging a sword.  
It was Dream.


	6. Your Vassal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally, we arrive at the finale. Daddy Dream is here and our heroes really can't catch a break.

“Wilbur Soot, I need to talk to you.”

The thing that made Dream so unsettling a figure was the fact that he often just stood there, in silence, until you felt as though it were up to you to fill the gap with your own words. This would lead to you blurting things out, without really thinking, which obviously put you at a disadvantage. In the rare circumstance when Dream did speak first, his words were often simple. But they had a heaviness, an almost leaden weight to them. It was almost biblical, like somebody had recorded everything Dream said, as it said it, on stone tablets. Immutable, unchangeable once a pronouncement was made. Being aware of this, Wilbur desperately wanted to know what was so important that Dream would come all this way, in person, to speak with him. And he knew he’d have to go carefully, and pick his words with extreme precision.

Unfortunately, he was surrounded by idiots.

“Hi Dream! Dream- Dream, we’re doing a trial,” Tommy said, gleefully, oblivious as always to the subtle undercurrents of the world. “But I think that it’s kinda collapsed because of something called ‘evidence’, and Tubbo was being all legal and shit.”

“Case dismissed!” Tubbo yelled, and banged the gavel.

Ignoring them, Wilbur shot Schlatt a warning look, and the other man nodded gravely. They both knew what was at stake here, and if Wilbur trusted anything, it was Schlatt’s sense of self-preservation. Schlatt nodded his head, almost imperceptibly towards Technoblade, had appeared in the doorway behind Dream. Great, now everybody was here. Wilbur looked around him at the sea of familiar faces and it was like something that was fated, finally falling into place. There had been no event in L’Manberg that Dream wasn’t a part of, even going back to the very beginning. If Dream was here, by implication, great events must be afoot.

“Why are you here, Dream?” Wilbur asked, trying to maintain a cool veneer. Even after everything, that seemed important.

“I bring you some good news.” Dream announced. “There’s going to be a new world. I’m going to create it out of this one.”

There was a general hubbub of surprise and dismay around them. Wilbur could hear the voices, back and forth. Niki’s horrified, “No!”. Fundy’s distinctive, “The fuck you are.”

Tommy just said, “Uh, hold the fuck on. No you’re bloody well not. This is our country. You agreed to leave us alone!”

Dream rode out the protests, waiting for the noise to die down before saying, “I need space to build my new world. To ‘upgrade’ it, if you will. And that means I can’t do it while this world exists. I mean, the new world will completely replace this one, basically destroying it.”

Wilbur shook his head, positioning himself between Dream and the crowd of people. “No, hold on, Dream, no.” He said, holding up one hand. He had no armour and no weapons, which was somehow fitting. It was one of the rules of old L’Manberg. They used their words, not their fists.

But where had that got them? Wilbur’s gaze flicked to Technoblade.

“I thought you’d be happy,” Dream said, sounding a little petulant. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Wilbur? You’ve already destroyed L’Manberg once. This is just the same, only on a grander scale.”

Standing beside him, Tommy looked genuinely scared for once, and looked up at Wilbur with pleading eyes. His voice was uncharacteristically soft as he spoke.

“No! Wilbur? No, he can’t mean that. You can’t mean that, Dream, mate?”

“No.” Wilbur agreed firmly, through gritted teeth. “I won’t let you do this, Dream.” He looked around at Tommy, and at Tubbo, and Niki, Fundy, everyone. “We won’t let you do this. You can’t just get rid of everything.”

Dream seemed to deflate. “This place is basically rubble now anyway. I thought it would be a good time to do this; that you’d be okay with it.”

Wilbur shook his head. “We are definitely not okay with it, right guys?” He was gratified that everyone yelled their assent. Tommy, standing beside him, was just muttering something that sounded like, “…very bad man…”

“You know I can just do it anyway.” Dream stated. “I don’t need your permission.”

Wilbur took a step towards him., glad to see Dream take a half-step back. “We know.” There was still a steel core within him, Wilbur was surprised to discover. Under his breath, he muttered, “Summon all the courage you require.” Then, louder, he spoke directly to dream. “We won’t make it easy on you. We’ll fight you with everything we have.”

“Yeah!” Tommy cheered and there was a general hubbub of approval from the crowd.

“Wilbur…” Dream paused. “Let’s talk privately. Just you and me.” He beckoned Wilbur to follow him out of the courthouse.

But Wilbur wasn’t inclined to give him any quarter, not now, not when he had the proverbial bit between his teeth. “No,” Wilbur said firmly, standing his ground.

“If you’ve got something to say, say it to all of us. Look around,” he gestured at the gathered crowd. “These are my friends, that this is our Manberg. And I’m not going to let anyone take it away, not ever again.”

“Okay,” Dream shrugged. “But I will be leaving for my new world very soon. Maybe I’ll cut you a deal. I could enclose Manberg in a force field and let you keep it.

It would be a smaller world, but functional. I could do that, as a favour to you and Tommy… on one condition.”

“Condition?” Tommy asked, practically manhandling Wilbur aside. “Dream, what condition?”

Wilbur tried to hold Tommy back. “Shh, Tommy. Shush. It was always going to end up here, the battle between us and him.” He turned back to Dream. “What condition?”

Dream paused for effect. Showboating, Wilbur thought, gritting his teeth.

“A single life for all of your lives,” Dream finally said. “I will take one of your outside this world, forever banished. They will never come back.”

“So they die?” Tommy asked uncertainly. “And don’t respawn?”

Dream nodded.

“Really Die?” Tubbo repeated weakly. “Gone. For good?”

“You could choose who, if you like,” Dream replied.

And that almost broke Wilbur. “No!” He shouted with tears in his eyes. “No, Dream.” The words tumbled from his lips. “Dream, you can do this to me, to us.”

There was no way he would give up anyone’s life and he glared daggers at Dream. “We would rather die, that betray one of our own like that.” He looked up, over Dream’s shoulder, raising his voice. “Technoblade, are you with us?”

Techno looked a little surprised at being singled out, but for once he didn’t hesitate.

“Yay, Democracy,” He said, ironically. “Yay for our side.” But he walked right past Dream to stand at Wilbur’s side, a solid, comforting presence.

“Well then, it seems like you’ve forced my hand Wilbur,” Dream replied, seeming a little reluctant. “In which case, I will choose someone myself. In return for the continuing existence of L’Manberg, I will take one life from L’Manberg. I will take… the most dangerous man in Manberg!”

Wilbur could sense Technoblade stiffen beside him, sword drawn, but it didn’t seem to intimidate Dream. Instead, Dream simply reached out to grab the tip of Techno’s sword, pushing it down with his gloved hands. He turned towards Wilbur.

“Danger doesn’t always mean violence,” Dream said. And he paused for a moment, letting his words sink in.

“No!” Tommy screamed in defiance. “You mean Wilbur? Don’t take Wilbur, don’t you dare take Wilbur!” Tommy was incandescent with rage, his face fire engine red. “You fucking fuck, Dream!”

Wilbur reached out and grabbed Tommy, wrapping the teenager in his arms and physically restraining him. “No Tommy, he whispered in his ear. No, it’s not worth it. You’ve got to live Tommy, you’ve got to live for L’Manberg. Rebuild it. Build it anew.”  
Raising his voice, Wilbur’s next words rang out, loud and clear, a clarion call to every stout-hearted Manbergian in the room. “This is our nation. This is New Manberg. And whatever you do to me, Dream, that’s on you. That’s your choice. But we, the people of New Manberg, we will stay here, and build, and craft, and mine the land, because that’s what we love.”

Dream remained standing there for barely a heartbeat before disappearing into thin air. Briefly Wilbur wondered if they’ve won again, like they did before, when they had nothing but a burned-out Hog Dog Van and a crazy idea of revolution. Before they’d been tested in battle, and lost and won and lost again. Wilbur wondered if they had finally done it, if they had finally beaten Dream, and he was filled with hope. Just for a few seconds.

Then the world seemed to explode with light and heat.

\--

It was like burning. It was like speeding down a very long, very dark tunnel, with a pinprick of light at the end, that was getting bigger and bigger with every moment. When the world came back, it rocked Wilbur to his very soul. It felt as though everything had changed, and yet everything felt the same.

“What happened? Where are we?” A voice came from his right.

Wilbur blinked the world back into focus. “Uh, exactly where we were, I think?” He said uncertainly.

Everyone filed out of the courtroom into the sunshine, but everything did feel subtly different. Wilbur searched for a word to describe the unidentifiable sensation inside him, like something had been diminished, enclosed.

Made safer?

“Dream is gone,” He realised, as he blurted the words.

“Really?” Tommy asked, his young face shining with triumph.

“Yeah, I think he’s gone,” Wilbur wasn’t ashamed to find that he was weeping. Weeping for this new land, built on so much pain and toil. Weeping for the birth of a new country.

New Manberg.

Everyone was standing around, hugging each other, smiling and laughing. Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh himself, watching Technoblade back away a when Niki tried to give him a kiss on the cheek. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now they’d won. Jesus, they’d really won!

Tubbo came up to him, smiling, but clearly nervous. “Mr President, Sir?” He asked.

Wilbur smiled fondly at the lad. Yes, he supposed he was President again. “What is it, Tubbo?”

“Sorry for asking, Sir, but who did Dream take? Who’s life?”

Wilbur shook his head with a chuckle. “I don’t think he took… anyone.” Then his words faded away as the realisation set in. Dream must have taken someone.

“Yeah,” Quackity said. “We should probably work that out. Oh, and by the way, has anybody seen Schlatt?”

The most dangerous man in L’Manberg. Wilbur’s eyes widened in a mix of relief and guilt. “Oh.” He said. “Oh shit-“

\--

Well that was pretty easy.

There was a beautiful field, full of pretty flowers, yak yak yak. Schlatt guessed that this was his home now. So fucking what? He’d had better, he’d had worse, so who was he to complain really? He fished in his pocket to retrieve a golden apple, munching down on it, and chewing it thoughtfully.

It was all fields and pansy-ass flowers, as far as the eye could see. There was even a flock of sheep, grazing in peaceful oblivion.

Schlatt sauntered slowly across the meadow, and after a few minutes some cliffs soared into view. He could just spot the tell-tale signs of coal seems in rock, and even the copper shine of iron ore.

Okay then.

He patted down his top pocked and retrieved a cigar, cussing when he realised he’d got nothing to light it with. Still, it felt comforting to have it. He’d find some lava, or he’ll make a torch. He was resourceful.

At the base of the cliff, he saw someone else, another figure, chopping away at a tree trunk. He was accumulating a pile of logs at his feet.

“Hey,” The other man called out to him. “I didn’t know there was anyone else here. They call me Carson. Who’re you?”

“They call me Schlatt,” Schlatt answered.

As Schlatt drew closer, he could see that the other man had already accumulated a full set of stone tools, clearly visible in an open chest. Carson looked a little hungry and a little vulnerable, but he smiled a friendly smile.

Schlatt flashed him a devilish grin and shook Carson’s hand. “Well nice to meet ya, Carson,” He said. “I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

The End.


End file.
